The Double Royale: Aftermath
by J.Rease
Summary: The immediate aftermath of The Double Royale: Legends. New York City Chronicles. Sixth in the series. Quinn thinks something fishy is going on between Rachel and Santana. And she has to get to the bottom of it. Girl!Peen.


Title: The Double Royale: Aftermath

Author: J Rease

Rating: M/Obscene

Warnings: Shameless Porn with a shallow backdrop of a deeper, unexplained history in a different universe. Faberry (endgame), Quinntana (flashback rendezvous!) Faberritana orgy (drama). GIRLPEEN.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: The aftermath of The Double Royale: Legends. New York City Chronicles. Sixth in the series. Quinn thinks something fishy is going on between Rachel and Santana. And she has to get to the bottom of it. Girl!Peen.

**Author's Note: PLEASE READ:** I am updating across the board for a final time so that my readers will know where to find my fic in the future. The next installment of this series will not be posted to . To find my website, please visit my profile page for more details.

This installment will feature a dual POV. Both Rachel and Quinn's perspective. This will be the last installment involving Quinn's POV. The next will be titled: The Double Royale: Back to Business.

**Aftermath**

There were noises drifting in from the hallway. Quinn's open door dragged rough whispers into her bedroom and her ears perked at the familiar sounds of Rachel's chanting voice. She found a large t-shirt in her closet and pulled it over her naked body, forgoing shorts as the hem of the oversized tee tickled the skin above her knees. She curiously tip toed over to the open doorway, trying to decipher the unidentifiable din wafting from down the hall. She heard Santana chime into the fray, muffled grunts knotting the inside of Quinn's stomach for some reason she didn't really want to validate. She moved away from the frame of her own door and silently made the voyage down the hall as the noises grew louder. The door was slightly ajar, enough space for her to lean against the frame to see into the bedlam. Quinn listened momentarily, too nervous to look inside and confirm the suspicious noises that her girlfriend was making from inside of Santana's bedroom- a place Rachel normally avoided. She could hear the noises clearly now- devastation clenching at her chest when she realized what they were. They were grunted moans and unformed words that died in Rachel's throat; _her_ Rachel's throat. Noises that Rachel never made when she was with Quinn.

She flung her body away from the door frame, her heart raging in her chest as she tried to make sense of the sounds. Quinn still hadn't looked. Rachel would never do this to her, not right under her nose and definitely not with Santana. But images of the night before flooded her brain, memories of Rachel unraveling on the very tip of Santana's tongue; trembling through a body shaking climax—Rachel's speech impaired by pure elation; words catching in her throat in ways Quinn had never heard before. But last night was one night. At least that was all she could tell herself as Rachel's confirmations grew louder.

Quinn looked.

Santana was buried between the open space of Rachel's thighs; Santana's eyes squeezed shut as she feasted on the sensitive flesh of Rachel's sex. Quinn felt herself twitch, furious that this was happening, but suddenly aware of her contradictory arousal. This was wrong. Quinn should have barged in, then, obscenities spewing from her mouth and anger growling up her throat- but she didn't. She was suddenly flustered, her damp skin kissing the cool air around her as she watched awestruck at the scene unfolding before her. She felt the sheen of evaporating sweat on her neck as she tugged the sliding t-shirt back up her shoulder, her panting breaths muffled by the thoughts of being caught; even though she wasn't one of the guilty.

She was hurt. She felt...betrayed. It only took one night for Santana to get Rachel to fall into her bed so casually. Last night had been a onetime event, something they just went with in the heat of the moment. She hadn't expected to be there, listening to the escalating sounds of her girlfriend's infidelity. What hurt more was the fact that Rachel was enjoying herself a lot more than she ever had with Quinn. It made Quinn want to evaluate her technique; it made her compare every single noise coming from Rachel now to every noise she had committed to memory. What she felt next was an immense surge of _jealousy_. It coiled inside her stomach and burned at the pit, her arousal forgotten as she stepped back to the cracked door, her eyes adjusting to their new position. Rachel's back was arched slightly, and Santana's hands gripped at Rachel's rotating hips. She could hear the sound of movement Santana's tongue was making, slapping quickly over both sides of Rachel's clit, Santana's thumbs rubbing tight circles on Rachel's tan skin. Rachel was raving, broken syllables of Santana's name choking from her gut, her hands twisted in Santana's hair.

When Rachel let her back fall flat against the bed again, Santana rolled Rachel's hips upward and continued to ravish her. Quinn stood at the doorway, poised to do something, but failing at stopping what was transpiring in front of her. She didn't want the confrontation. She wouldn't know how to explain to them that last night wasn't an open invitation. She wouldn't know how to barge inside that room without looking like a hypocrite; like she hadn't been buried deep inside both Santana and Brittany only yesterday. Tears threatened her eyes momentarily, and she blinked them away in time to acknowledge Santana's now probing gaze. She stared back at the brunette, Rachel oblivious to the connection she and Santana had made without her. She almost backed away from the door. She was suddenly overcome with the urge to go back to her room and let them finish whatever they had started without audience. She didn't. Especially since Santana's cheekbones were high and taught, like she was smiling into Rachel's sopping sex. Like she thought Quinn watching them was some great amusement. Quinn rolled her eyes. Santana pulled away from Rachel momentarily, and Quinn was almost sure she was about to be called out.

What happened next made her instantly **hard**.

Santana stared directly at her, while Rachel caught her breath on the bed and canted her hips upward, waiting for the orgasm she was on the verge of moments before. Santana licked her left middle and ring finger before curling them and thrusting into Rachel. Rachel bucked her hips in response, right before Santana's mouth latched onto her clit again. Santana was wearing the same devious smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Quinn could only stand there; enraptured by the show they were putting on. Rachel's moans were obscenely loud, mocking her as they reverberated throughout the apartment. She was chanting words like 'more' and 'fuck' between gritted teeth while Santana's fingers were somehow moving effortlessly inside her. Jealousy touched her gut again, when she realized that she was never able to keep a pace that Santana was setting. Nor had she ever stolen all of Rachel's words; which were now spilling spastically out of her mouth like broken prayers at the altar of Santana's talented ministrations.

Quinn swallowed, not letting her eye contact with Santana break as the Latina pulled away again, the flat of her empty hand settled on the small of Rachel's back before she pulled Rachel into a sitting position- and into her lap. Quinn watched from afar as they adjusted, biting her bottom lip when Rachel finally settled on Santana's lap; hovering over her glistening fingers. Santana was peeking over Rachel's shoulder, her mouth slick with remnants of Rachel's arousal on her upper lip. Santana's free hand was on Rachel's waist, pushing down as Rachel lifted up to cause friction; Rachel's mewling increasing in pitch as she sped up the pace to bounce on Santana's pumping fingers. She hated watching, Santana's grin flashing at her in victory, but she couldn't look away. Rachel started trembling, her back arching involuntarily as she approached climax.

"You like that, huh? Going to come all over my fingers aren't you?"

Quinn already knew the answer.

"Yessssss."

The conviction in which Rachel growled it made Quinn lightheaded.

"Quinn can't make you come like I can, can she?"

She wanted to cover her ears, not wanting to hear Rachel's answer.

"Nuh uh... you're gonna make me come so **hard**, Santana...make me come...please?"

Her penis twitched at the pleading in Rachel's voice. The envy spiked at the base of her throat and she swallowed imaginary bile back down. Rachel never begged her. She had never seen her girlfriend so unhinged- she was furious. Rachel was lifting and impaling herself back onto Santana's thrusting fingers, her thighs were tightening around Santana's, Santana's eyes were heavy lidded and unwavering- staring directly at Quinn while she finger fucked her girlfriend. Santana readjusted momentarily, moving her hand but she didn't pull her fingers out. Quinn guessed at the keening noises that she was thumbing Rachel's clit, managing to do so flawlessly in their potentially wrist breaking position.

Quinn swallowed again, this time to clear away the dry mouth. She edged closer to the open doorway, her sweaty palms sticking to the edge of the door frame. Santana was thrusting her hips against her own fingers, pumping into Rachel's wet heat at a steady pace. Rachel was close, teetering on the edge like she could fall at any moment. Santana smirked at Quinn, again, before latching on to the crook of Rachel's neck and biting down. Rachel's back straightened and bucked, she lifted a few times before shuddering and finally-she came. Santana looked pleased with herself as she pulled her sticky fingers out, bringing them to her mouth before sucking each finger (and in between each finger), for dramatic affect. She teased from her perch beneath Rachel, letting the last finger from her mouth with an audible 'pop', followed by a satisfied "mmmhmm" that rumbled from the back of her throat. Rachel let her head fall on Santana's shoulder, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips before Quinn heard the first intelligent sentence Rachel had put together thus far.

"God, Santana, you're so much better at that than Quinn."

000 0000 000

Quinn shot awake, grabbing at the damp sheet that covered her naked body, images of Santana and Rachel still haunting the half sleep parts of her mind from underneath strands of her bed tousled hair. She had to still her clenching chest before rising, and she stood on nervous legs as she found clothing to put on. Finding an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts, she ignored her softening erection and the flush on her skin when she realized the affect her dream had on her. **It was just a dream**. A very realistic, crazy dream. She rubbed her face with her cupped palms before looking around the room.

The kitchen chair was still at the foot of the bed; the furniture more accusatory than anything else in the room. Quinn inhaled deeply, taking note of the smell of sweat and sex and bodily fluids. Last night had been fun. But it had also been stupid and reckless and all those other "polite" words she felt her mother would have used in such an unsavory situation. She sat back down on the bed, rubbing her temples to prepare herself for the conversation she knew she would have to have with everyone about what happened. Flashes of important things crossed Quinn's mind before she could stop them; thoughts of birth control and her lack of protection in the heat of the moment. She reprimanded herself right after, because those were things she should have thought about a lot earlier than right now.

A noise peaked from another part of the apartment, something akin to laughter and the noise of skin hitting skin. Her heart picked up pace as she recalled the start of the slowly dissipating dream, and she tried to shake the feeling of deja vu. She finally lifted from the bed and made her way to where the sounds were coming from, trying to gauge the mood of the other inhabitants of the apartment. She didn't really know what to expect. Quinn didn't know how the girls were processing what happened between them, and she felt like she was about to walk into a very awkward situation.

The first thing she noticed after walking into the kitchen was Santana. She was sitting in her chair, sipping on what smelled like Rachel's herbal tea-her back facing Quinn as she approached them. The next thing Quinn noticed were Rachel's bare legs- her toned skin stretching comfortably across Santana's lap; her bare feet dangling over the other side of Santana's thighs. Something made Quinn want to knock Rachel's legs from across Santana's lap. She reigned in the emotion quickly, trying not to let the jealousy in her dream seep into her waking world. Before she could stop her thoughts, she noticed Santana's hand moving up and down Rachel's calf kneading and squeezing at the muscle. Her rationale abandoned at the sight of Rachel and Santana's close proximity.

"What the hell is going on here?" She had to push the words out through gritted teeth.

Santana's head snapped toward Quinn.

"What crawled up your ass and died, Q-" Rachel slid her legs off Santana's lap with a sigh, and picked up her mug of tea.

"Found it!"

Brittany ducked from underneath the table. Quinn hadn't registered the other blonde in the room, or the noise she'd been making from the floor. Quinn moved closer to see what the blonde had been doing. There were two boxes of cereal on the floor, the contents poured over what looked like half a roll of paper towels. Brittany stood up enthusiastically and answered the question Santana had directed at Quinn.

"Don't be so mean, San, Quinn just thinks you're trying to steal Rachel."

Quinn scoffed, and before she could deny it, Brittany had already continued.

"I've been looking for this mood ring forever! I kept getting the finger trap."

Brittany slipped the ring onto her finger before bending down to pick up the mess she'd made on the floor.

"Well sorry, Q, I don't date oompa loompas. The munchkin's leg fell asleep."

Rachel leaned forward to playfully slap Santana's bare shoulder. Santana ignored her and continued.

"And besides, we already had that talk. We all knew you'd wake up with a stick up your ass... so have a seat so we can get this over with."

Quinn walked over to the kettle and poured herself a cup of what the girls were drinking before she slouched into the chair beside Brittany- who was filling Tupperware with cereal she sifted through on the floor.

"Look. It was fun. But it won't happen again. I don't do polygamy and I definitely don't have eyes for your troll over here."

Rachel slapped Santana's shoulder again. Santana smirked before continuing.

"And look, Rach and I have even formed a truce- apparently being face deep in hobbit vagina brings two people closer together."

Quinn scoffed behind her luke warm cup of tea, swallowing her tongue and choosing to ignore the last comment. Brittany gave Santana a stern look from the floor, and Santana ducked her head in compliance.

"Well at least good things came from it; apparently I have to quit smoking-"

Brittany stopped momentarily to fist pump around a handful of cereal.

"- It won't happen again. You can stay in your little denial bubble and we can all laugh at you for being a complete prude behind your back. Win win."

Quinn just nodded. She sipped her tea and hoped to herself that things would remain the same.

000 0000 000

Quinn was a brooder. Especially when it came to jealousy. She didn't act on any emotion until she knew what she could actually do about it. She would work out every possible plan of action until she could move forward; in the meantime, her anger and jealousy would fester. The feelings would bubble and boil inside her until she fizzled to the brim with pent up rage and misdirected resentment. That was usually when she would plan. She would plot and scheme and prepare. It would consume her entirely. And before she could implement reason, she would explode prematurely, and all of her plans would be ruined, all of her intentions wound up misplaced because of her lapse in rationale. Consequences of her vindictive, paranoid behavior would add to the list of her growing offenses; the list of things she would need to apologize for in earned trust. It was a vicious cycle, truthfully, and she had been desperately trying not to brood over what was happening now.

After the kitchen table discussion, she expected things to change dramatically. She was prepared for awkward silences and avoidance tactics. She was actually ready for polite distance and forced formalities. What Quinn didn't expect was how quickly things got back to normal. Rachel was still hers and only hers, Brittany still went on with a sweet indifference and Santana was still her bitchy self. She settled into a semblance of comfort knowing that things would be okay; and she pushed thoughts of their tryst aside for the sake of her sanity.

Unfortunately for Quinn, trying constantly not to think about something often forced it to the forefront of her mind.

Sometime during the two weeks since "That Night", her suspicions had grown immensely about Santana and Rachel's newfound friendship. Before That Night, they tolerated each other, going out of their way to avoid spending any quality time together. Most of their endearments were insults, and for a long time Quinn had given up trying to understand how they worked; why they worked.

It was easy to see that it was different now.

That much Quinn was sure about. At first, she tried to dismiss her paranoia, chiding herself for losing trust in not only her girlfriend- but her best friend as well. Her suspicions grew in spite of her trying to squelch the feeling that something was going on between them. As the break from school stretched on in a jumble of work and exhaustion, she started to notice the subtle things that changed since That Night.

Quinn had come home after a long shift. She had stains on her pants from spilled coffee and whipped cream and all she wanted was a bath and a quiet night in with Rachel. When she got home, no one was there. Brittany was the only person who had the time to travel back to Lima for the break, so the apartment was relatively quiet when she chucked her bag onto the coffee table and slid out of her slip-resistant work shoes. She'd fallen asleep sometime after bathing, and darkness crept into her open window as she woke, her eyes adjusting slowly to the change. Rachel hadn't bothered to wake her, and glancing at her clock she knew Rachel was somewhere in the apartment by now. She put on clothes before walking down the hallway, and her footsteps slowed as she tuned into the muffled voices floating in through the kitchen. She slid into the room unnoticed and flattened herself against the wall next to the entranceway of their living room.

Quinn found herself peeking around corners and listening to private conversations a lot more often these days.

Glancing quickly around the corner, she saw the back of Rachel's head. She saw the dark of Santana's legs hanging over the arm of the loveseat, Santana's head not visible from Quinn's vantage point. There was a movie outro fading to black on the screen, and she could hear appreciative murmuring sounds that were coming from wherever Santana's head was (which given the size of the couch- was probably in Rachel's lap). Quinn waited. There had been times over the past few days that she jumped to conclusions way too fast. The accusations made her look jealous and controlling. Now, she knew to wait before barging in on the two of them.

"That feels so good, Rach..."

That was another thing she'd noticed; actually, it was something she hated about the friendship that blossomed between them since That Night. Gone were the days of name calling and insult swapping. Rachel's given name seemed to ease off of Santana's tongue _intimately_. Quinn stilled her grinding teeth long enough to listen.

"You were totally right about this, by the way. But—you can't tell Britts or Q. Especially Q... she'd have a field day."

Rachel's head tilted back in laughter, her hand coming into view as she toyed with long strands of Santana's hair. Quinn could envision them on the couch now- Santana staring up from Rachel's lap, Rachel's hand playing absentmindedly at Santana's scalp ...following strands all the way up to the ends.

"You're absolutely right... Quinn wouldn't approve of our bonding, now would she? It's okay. She doesn't have to know. However... I'm still shocked you actually cried; I mean I know it was good and everything- but getting actual tears from Satan herself... I feel accomplished."

She heard Santana snicker.

"Whatever, Smurf, wipe that smug smirk off your face. Why didn't you invite Quinn to join us anyway?"

"It's nothing she hasn't seen before. And she wouldn't want to just sit and watch, so I figured I would let her sleep until we were done."

That was enough. Quinn let her feet guide her quietly behind the couch. Standing over Rachel's shoulder, she got a clear view of Santana's face- her eyes were closed and her mouth quirked at the edges as Rachel played in her hair. Rachel was so enthralled with Santana's raven tresses that she didn't notice Quinn hovering behind her.

"It was that good huh?"

Quinn couldn't hold back the venom in her voice. Rachel jumped and Santana rolled onto the floor with a heavy thud before spitting out strings of expletives.

"So you aren't going to deny it, Rachel? You aren't going to deny sleeping with my best friend behind my back? And Santana! Cheating on Brittany, I thought you were above that."

Rachel looked over at Santana before locking eyes with Quinn again. The sound of laughter filled her ears before it registered that both Rachel and Santana were laughing rudely in her face.

"You think this is funny? You think cheating on me is funny? I'd expect that from you, Santana... but Rachel?"

Santana stood from the floor, her face abruptly grew serious.

"Whoa now blondie, back off. Last time I checked, watching Beaches isn't cheating. I told you more than once now that you're imagining things. I'm going to bed. You two can stay here and fight over what you keep dreaming up in that over active imagination of yours. Night Rachel."

Santana disappeared before Quinn could close her open mouth. Rachel was quiet for a moment, but instantly went into rant mode the moment she gathered her thoughts.

"Quinn... this needs to stop. Everyone else has moved past what happened. We had sex. It was fun- no strings attached. You were there, remember? Last time I checked, you were all 'No day but today."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Rachel's air quotes.

"I mean, when does a blow job competition ever NOT turn into sex? You sneaking around trying catch us doing things we aren't doing is starting to really make me upset. And while I'm on the topic, you really need to stop playing detective. I don't care how odd that conversation sounded. We watched Beaches together, Quinn. Santana CRIED during the movie and we bonded over viral cardiomyopathy and the loss of friendship!"

Santana's voice interrupted Rachel's ever growing angry rant from her bedroom down the hall.

"Rachel! You said you wouldn't say anything!"

Rachel shook her head before continuing.

"She already knew, Santana!"

Rachel took a steadying breath, squared her shoulders and lowered her voice.

"I'm upset that this is why you're jealous. I wasn't suspicious of anything going on with you and Santana after I found out she was your first was I?"

Quinn shook her head, her eyes shifting anywhere other than Rachel's.

"Exactly. Did I accuse you and Brittany of having an affair? Did I sneak around the house jumping out of hiding spaces trying to catch you?"

Quinn shook her head again.

"Right. Keep that in mind. I'm getting exasperated here, Quinn. You're my girlfriend. My only girlfriend. What happened was an exploration in sexuality. You of all people should understand that. You weren't even jealous of me being BJ. You understood that I can separate work from us. What changed?"

Quinn blew air out of her cheeks before looking into Rachel's eyes.

"It was just a dramatic change. Santana and you just never got along. I was worried..."

It wasn't a full truth. She was more concerned with the things Santana could do with her mouth...or her hands...or other body parts. But Rachel didn't need to know that. Rachel looked at her in silence for a few minutes. She knew that the brunette wanted to press on... but she backed off instead of demanding that Quinn come clean. She grabbed Quinn's hands and took a step closer, Rachel's voice low enough so that only she could hear her.

"Santana and I just realized that we've wasted so much time not being friends. We have a lot in common, and that's it. I don't want her that way. You have nothing to worry about."

Rachel kissed her sweetly on the side of her mouth, and went into their bedroom. Quinn wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, so she sat down on the loveseat and pressed the restart on the DVD remote.

000 0000 000

They hadn't had sex since That Night. That in itself was enough to send her mind into frenzy. There were legitimate reasons at first. Between Rachel's rehearsals and auditions and her full time hours at Starbucks, they rarely made it home with enough energy to recap their days. As break came to a close, they finally settled back into their normal routines with one exception:

They hadn't had any form of sex since That Night.

Quinn missed sexual activities...especially since their last had been one of her most ambitious sexual endeavors. Whenever she attempted any form of physical intimacy, Rachel told her she was too busy or too tired. The sudden shift in the brunette's libido worried her. For a while, she thought she was being punished for her outburst over Rachel and Santana's friendship.

But Rachel reassured her that that wasn't the case.

It had been the longest run she'd gone without physical contact since they started dating, and withdrawals were definitely playing tricks on her mind. It started slowly. She watched Santana and Rachel in plain sight, too chummy and too touchy. Even subduing the feeling, her jealousy and self-doubt kicked in and she'd convinced herself that Rachel didn't want to have sex with her, because Rachel was still hung up over sex with Santana. Quinn would try to shake off the feeling, but her mind would chant back mockingly: Santana's just better.

Quinn knew it was ludicrous, especially after having the conversation about Santana and Rachel just being friends. But she started catching Santana taking glances at Rachel's legs. Quinn started noticing hugs that lasted too long and inside jokes she wasn't in on. It went from annoying to infuriating by the time classes were back in session. Quinn's temper was short, and she felt like she would explode at any moment.

Quinn wanted to talk to Brittany. Somehow she was sure the dancer would be able to calm her nerves over the subject. Whenever she tried, Brittany would smile and simply tell her how happy she was that Santana and Rachel were finally friends. That ultimately made Quinn feel worse. It seemed so easy for Brittany to trust them, there was no doubt, or resentment from the girl and Quinn needed to find a way to just _stop_. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was being irrational, but her feelings just wouldn't go away.

It took two weeks for Quinn to find her breaking point. She walked into their apartment and set her things on the table as she did every day. She walked past the living room and through the kitchen; she spoke to Brittany on her way to the bathroom. When she pushed open her bedroom door, the first thing she saw was red. Rachel was on her stomach, her arms folded and supporting her head, which wasn't facing Quinn. She was also topless, her bra unclasped on the bed beneath her. Santana, who straddled Rachel's waist, was kneading the muscles of her girlfriend's back and shoulders. It could have been innocent. It really could have been a simple massage. But history told her that massages usually lead to other things, just as wrestling did, just as scary movie watching did. She reigned in her initial anger, and as calmly as she could, she interrupted-

"Santana, can I speak to you for a minute?"

Santana's head darted up, and she wiped what looked like lotion on the lower half of Rachel's back before standing up and following Quinn to the living room. Quinn took a few moments to compose herself before speaking.

"Why are you being such a bitch, Santana?"

Santana scoffed.

"Me? You're the one with the bitchy attitude, Q."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Look, whatever, Quinn. If you wanna throw punches let's get it over with."

"I wasn't going to hit you. I mean, I have reasons to hit you-"

Santana laughed.

"Like what?"

"Like you cuddling with my girlfriend. Like you rubbing her down with lotion. Keep your hands to yourself-"

Santana looked annoyed. Quinn always thought that Santana Lopez knew her better than anyone else in the world. Santana was always there to call her out, rile her up, or calm her down. They'd done so much shit to each other and still maintained their friendship. Right now, Quinn knew that Santana wasn't going to let her get away with lying to her.

"Look, Quinneth. I'm over your insecurities. If I wanted your girl I'd have her already. And fyi, I work out Brittany's muscles after she has long a long day dancing. Had you been here you would know Rachel strained her back in ballet. I have no reason to hide anything I do, or don't do—it's just fun screwing with your head. Do you really think I'd blatantly cheat on Britt?"

"That didn't stop you from doing it that night-"

"Yea well, it didn't stop you either. You can't think with your dick then wake up pointing fingers like you weren't involved. I don't want your girl. So cut through the mountains of bull shit and repression and just admit what's really bothering you."

"What would that be, San? Since you know so much about-"

Santana took two steps toward Quinn.

"I know that you think I'm better at getting your girl off than you are. It's the only reason you've been hounding me to stay away from her. How about you grow some balls, Quinnie, and figure out how to make your girl come like I can? I know I set the bar pretty high, but what's the worse that can come from a little bit of healthy competition? If anything, you should have been paying attention; you could have learned something."

Santana bumped her shoulder for good measure on the way out, before Quinn could gather a rebuttal to bark back at her.

Quinn stood in the wake of Santana's departure, stunted by the truth in Santana's words. Santana had taught her so much about pleasing her partner when they were intimate. Quinn had been an enthusiastic and eager participant. She walked away with a confidence she wouldn't have had had she gone into the world with her sexual experiences being limited to Noah Puckerman. Santana was one of the most painfully honest people she'd ever met, and Quinn wanted to slap herself for not believing her when she accused her.

Quinn felt like redemption was in order.

Quinn would never apologize to Santana to her face; or on purpose. They swept grievances under the rug, and resumed their regularly scheduled program without hitch. Rachel on the other hand would need a bold gesture. Quinn collected her jaw from its spot on the floor before heading back to her bedroom. Rachel was still sleeping on her stomach, her arms crisscrossed beneath her resting head. Her back was rising and falling in even, deep breaths. Rachel's hair covered her face as Quinn rounded the bed, and the idea immediately struck her when she reached out to tuck strands away from Rachel's face. She would show Rachel just how good she could be.

000 0000 000

Rachel had been sleeping. She had fallen asleep while Santana rubbed her back to assuage the pain she'd felt panging against her tailbone from a botched lift in her dance class. Rachel rarely overexerted herself in class, but the guy she'd been partnered with was lacking in every department and managed to drop her twice before she requested someone with a bit more finesse. Luckily, Santana's dexterous hands had eased out the ache in her back, and she'd dozed off sometime during her massage. What woke her was confusing at first. Gentle lips pressed lightly at the middle of her back, trailing ghost kisses down her spine until they came in contact with her yoga pants and detoured down her sides. Rachel smiled and sighed simultaneously, enjoying the journey Quinn's lips made on her flesh. Rachel let the satisfied rumble climb from her belly to her mouth, as Quinn's hands joined in on the excavation of Rachel's body, fingertips lightly brushing against her sides and shoulders before calming near her hips.

Rachel lifted from the bed as Quinn tugged her yoga pants slowly down, letting her fingers graze and goose bump her skin as they dragged off the tips of her toes. She wasn't wearing underwear for Quinn to trifle with, so she lay flat on her stomach as Quinn used her mouth to get reacquainted with the rest of her body. She felt Quinn's hot, warm mouth leave a wet, warm trail down her legs; her tongue darting out to kiss the bends Rachel's knees made. Her breath hitched as Quinn's tongue lingered, nerves jumping as her girlfriend's tongue swirled around the erogenous zone. Rachel managed to bite back a moan, stilling as Quinn worked her way down her body tediously.

Lips passed her ankle and she felt her eyes close as Quinn let her tongue dart between the spaces of her toes and up the inside of her leg as Quinn made her way to the other. Rachel's right side was always more sensitive than her left, and she felt her body buck and shudder against Quinn's venturing tongue. Rachel was close to shattering by the time Quinn turned her slowly on her back, a sloppy smile illuminating her face as she kissed Rachel full on the mouth. Only momentarily distracted, Quinn kissed slowly down Rachel's chin, following the column of her throat until her lips pressed firmly against her collarbone. Quinn's tongue was pointed as she dragged it along each branch of the bone all the way to the lobe of Rachel's ear. She sucked lightly on it before biting, and Rachel could feel Quinn's smile spread as Rachel's hair stood on end.

"I'm sorry… about everything. I want to show you how sorry I really am…"

"Quinn, I can't my back—"

Rachel couldn't figure out why they were whispering.

"Shhh." Quinn pressed a finger to Rachel's lips.

"Don't worry… you won't have to move a muscle."

Quinn kissed the space behind her ear, and Rachel's body arched as Quinn's fingernails dragged torturously up and down her sides. Rachel couldn't speak. She just nodded, and let Quinn trail wet pecks back down to her neck and over to her other ear. Rachel bit her lip when Quinn sucked harder, and grabbed handfuls of her shirt when Quinn let her tongue flick over the sensitive flesh under her ear. Quinn's head ducked lower until her teeth sunk into Rachel's shoulder, and she let her tongue press slowly around the shape of Rachel's breast. Rachel stopped breathing when Quinn's mouth finally puckered around an erect nipple, her body tensed as she mewled, trying her best to stay quiet.

Quinn circled her pebbled nipple, the pressure light and airy. Rachel tried her best to be tolerant, her speeding breath the only noise besides the wet noises Quinn's tongue made as it travelled from one nipple to the valley of Rachel's breasts and finally to the other. Rachel jumped when Quinn's mouth made contact, and she sucked in a breath when Quinn finally bit down, sparks of arousal travelled down her body, and she thrust her hips upward into Quinn's pelvis.

"Patience, Rachel, we'll get to that later."

Rachel's eyes opened as Quinn leaned away, tugging her shirt and bra off in one easy, fluid motion. Quinn's mouth was on her skin fast, and she opened her thighs to accommodate Quinn as she licked from the undersides of her breasts all the way to her navel. Rachel couldn't tell when she'd started making the hungry noises that sounded from her gut as Quinn dipped and swirled and tangled her tongue in her belly button. Quinn met Rachel's eyes then, salaciously lingering as she went lower, kissing the flat of her stomach until she was breathing heavily over Rachel's slit.

Rachel hadn't known she needed release as badly as she did until she felt the first kiss Quinn pressed to her sex. Rachel licked her drying lips as she watched Quinn kiss her everywhere but the place she needed her most. She fluttered inside when she finally felt the blonde part her, engorged parts of her sex ached where she needed to be touched. The kisses didn't stop, and Rachel was growing impatient with the need building inside her. Quinn's tongue finally made an appearance as it swirled slowly around her swollen clit; managing to miss every place Rachel would have spontaneously combusted had Quinn's tongue just swiped across it.

Her breathing was erratic, and Quinn's pace remained languid as she explored parts of Rachel with her mouth like she never had before. Rachel's hands had fisted the sheets sometime between where Quinn started and where Quinn was now. Rachel was sweating, and she let her hands travel to Quinn's hair, trying her best not to shove her girlfriend's face harder against her; trying her best not to press Quinn's tongue against her forcibly. Quinn's hand pulled away from where they gripped at Rachel's hips and they shot up quickly to pull her at the wrists. Quinn effectively trapped them below Rachel's navel as she continued, squeezing Rachel's hands as she finally picked up the pace.

The first direct contact Quinn made on Rachel's clit with her tongue felt like thousands of tiny particles smashing against every nerve ending in Rachel's body. Her hips collided against Quinn's moving tongue, rolling on the tip of it as Quinn held Rachel's hands steadily over Rachel's hip. Rachel couldn't take much as Quinn sped up, the very tip of her tongue made circles around her clit before Quinn swiped quickly across it, back and forth.

Rachel couldn't be quiet anymore. She was quivering, her body too tense to handle what Quinn was doing. She squeezed Quinn's hands as her body started quaking, and she couldn't stop her hips from smashing into Quinn's still moving mouth. Quinn started humming. It was an unrecognizable tune but it did wonders to the feeling Quinn's tongue was making against her. She was blaring gibberish now, no longer caring if their roommates or anyone else heard. She couldn't make any sense of the words spewing out her mouth, but Quinn was smiling as she continued, gathering her lips tightly around her clit before sucking until—

"Yes! Yessssss! Oh my god yes!"

Rachel felt her walls clamping around nothing but the memory of Quinn's tongue, she was thundering and squeezing and contracting. It feels like the best and most overwhelming experience at the same time. She lost consciousness momentarily, the pulsing in her sex reverberating on her insides as Quinn pulled away. She expected Quinn to push into her soon, satisfying the void her insides had been craving to be filled. Instead, Quinn settled in at the head board of their bed and beckoned for her to follow. Quinn had lost her pants sometime during Rachel's orgasm, and she was thick beneath the fabric of her boxer briefs. Rachel wanted to return the favor as she crawled on her shaky legs to where Quinn was sitting. Quinn tugged her closer when Rachel reached out to palm her erection.

Quinn pulled her gently until they were kissing, sticky evidence of sex tangy around Quinn's mouth, her tongue salty as they kissed. Rachel began moaning into the back of Quinn's throat. Quinn sprang into action, twisting Rachel around so that Rachel leaned lightly against Quinn's bare breasts, her legs bent at the knees between Quinn's open, flat thighs.

They were facing the wall mirrors.

Rachel saw her open legs, the glistening remains of a mind-blowing orgasm, and Quinn's devious Cheshire smile inside the reflective surface. Quinn began kissing her shoulders before she changed course with a quirk of her brow to whisper quietly into her ear.

"I needed to know that I could unhinge you."

Rachel gulped. She couldn't take her eyes off the mirror directly in front of them. Quinn's hand played at the apex of Rachel's thigh, her flesh responsive under the light stimulation Quinn's fingertips made.

"Why were you afraid that you couldn't?"

Rachel bit her lip and watched Quinn gaze at her for a solid minute.

"I watched you melt on Santana's tongue… and I wanted to wipe away your memory of her."

Rachel smirked.

"Santana never made an impression… all I ever wanted is you. No one else is in your league, Quinn. There never has been."

She watched Quinn's jaw flex, Rachel's eyes never wavering as she watched the quirk in Quinn's smile. Quinn buried her face into Rachel's neck. She let her eyes close as Quinn inhaled, and pressed a single kiss to the bend Rachel's neck and shoulder made. Quinn's hand stilled at the apex of Rachel's thigh, and drifted lower to her glistening sex.

Quinn's hand teased down her silky folds, still damp from her first orgasm. Quinn circled a single finger up and down her; the movement maddening to Rachel's overworked nerve endings. Quinn turned to face the mirror, and watched Rachel's hips buck lightly against her moving hand. Rachel saw her body flush crimson, the tips of her toes pointed as she wrapped her feet around the outsides of Quinn's thighs, right above the knee. She felt Quinn pressing eagerly into her backside; the bucking Rachel was doing eased her delicately against Quinn's shaft. Quinn's eyes closed in the mirror, and Rachel bit her lip as a single finger slid slowly into her, the bottom of Quinn's palm rubbed against clit, the friction loosened Rachel's jaw, and Rachel cried out in satisfaction as Quinn pulled out of her and pushed steadily back in. Rachel swiveled her hips in time to meet Quinn's hand, her feet dug into Quinn's thighs and she felt her crumbling body shudder each time Quinn slid her finger into her.

Quinn was looking into the mirror behind Rachel, Quinn's hips dragging into Rachel's bucking. Quinn pulled her finger out, and directly into her mouth before sliding two fingers down and back into Rachel. Rachel didn't recognize herself in the mirror. Her hair was skewed and her hips rotated spastically against Quinn's, the wet stroke of Quinn's fingers wreaking havoc on her ear drums over the noise of Rachel's own panting, chanting voice. The rhythm was close to blinding her vision with stars.

Quinn's panting matched hers, and she could feel her insides squeeze around the tips of Quinn's fingers as they touched something inside her that made her toes tingle and her muscles spasm. Quinn's pace was quickening, and Rachel felt her palm knocking against her engorged clitoris, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene in the mirror, her insides swelling as Quinn began whispering for her to come into Rachel's ear. Rachel squeezed, and stroked backwards over Quinn's shaft, her insides thundering around Quinn's fingers until she felt the wet of her orgasm gush and cream from inside her.

She'd screamed Quinn's name in broken wails as she let her orgasm ride out, Quinn not far behind as she pressed Rachel's hip into her and ruined the underwear she'd still been wearing. She'd been screaming the entire time; Rachel only knew it then because her throat was sore, hoarse and raw from crashing through her euphoria. She slumped against Quinn, not minding the sticky mess between them; too tired and sore to move and too sated to care. The world was a dirty place, but she could clean up tomorrow.

"Quinn?"

Rachel felt Quinn's voice rumble from her chest where Rachel's head was resting.

"Hmmmmm?"

Rachel smiled sleepily against her heartbeat.

"I accept your apology."

The last noise Rachel registered before sleep that night was the sound of Quinn's laughter.

End.


End file.
